[x]

regardless of where and which roads (write)i. so today we get together
   as per your request
   today you (at last) confess to me

   i watch you narrate

   the e.e. cummings you've
   kept chained in your rhythm,
   in your beats and paces and all other nooks
   and crooks
   and hidden places

   i've secretly always known existed

   i want you to start writing today

ii. you tell me you believe
    in your ability
    to write the words i always knew you whispered;
    steaming at the hearts of other girls
    turning them to froth
    while i watch my own heart
    shrivel like dregs
    in the same cup of cappuccino

    i've always been drinking off drought

iii. i am sc

papertaleshow many nights have you devoured by halflight,
a trickling of words
supped like good linguini
snaking up below your blankets and ringing in your belly,

        your head is in a book,
        a book is in your head

flickering inside you,
stories and fable-yarns,
        sage sorrel vase-lipped faces
cast in the ivory
between veins,

and i can see it in your eyes,
inhaling after that long time somewhere else,
     it's been raining for days
        an

Serendipity and SnowfallI am la vie en rose,
a newborn with as many mini bones in my body as possibilities.
Lovelily,
I am potential waiting to be tapped into.
I am a spectrum of light,
serenity in the symmetry of a snowflake.

I come veiled in lace from everlasting love's womb with my budding,
fresh,
goose-flesh tucked tenderly underneath.
I spread my spirit wide,
outstretching my feather-tips &,
supplicated by twizzles,
I catch my ballerina's foot & fly.
In these fleeting,
finite moments of ubermensch suspension in multiple salchows comes clairvoyance,
a kindness beyond the absolution of mundane minds.

With the key to perfection being repetition,
I pray you

My Romantic Bones Are Dancinglove is...

i.

the ability to face torment
from a thousand needles
drilling a million holes each
into the same square of skin -

the gouge is a constellation
accompanying an epic tale
that's every brand
of truth.

ii.

the knowledge we are broken
by familiar hands

and restored by
familiar arms & lips
& voice-patterns.

iii.

a metaphor for the inexpressible
god in each of us;

humanity's greatness
manifested in a flame, licking
hollow spaces in our yawning caverns.

iv.

one soul seeking the fingertips
of another soul seeking the fingertips
of another soul seeking

reparations for its mundane sins.

v.

the first breath, th

seashell whispersa sheet of paper caught adrift,
carried on a current of the wind;
schools of leaves circled and pushed,
drowning graphite recollections;
when the page found concrete shore,
it was smeared, faded, and torn;
one line of gray remained unsullied,
almost overlooked amongst the wreck;
may we anchor our ships at bay,
before we sink into each other's depths.

Name That Baby1) Audio Version Here and 2) New Audio Version here Scroll to "Read by SilverInkBlot," then find this title.

I'm gonna lay it on the table
Do the tell
Get the spelling right
Tight.
Got called "depressed"
Took it up to "manic"
Bipolar in the head
And they said --

"Make it longer,
Schizo-affective
Bipolar tendencies"
New dependency
On taking pills,
To flatten my hills
Knock out the frills,
I got double-damned.

'Cause a this shit --
Father dies in a pool
Mother dies too,
In love with a fool
Mother let days pass,
No food or water
How did she last?
I closed her eyes,
They felt alive,
Like little butterflies.

Hector also dies,
Left alone by

juvenilerocking doll
strung up tight:

your lips are
bright and bittersweet
as marmalade,
slim cunning wedges
with dark orange
rinds;

your juices plush
your chilling skin.

when they cut you down,
come back to the nursery;

play again.

Midnight: A RensakuI'll hold you, fold you
tuck you safe in my rib-cage
-like first love's letters

I'll seek heaven in your gaze,
constellations on your lips

Catch the butterflies
fluttering in my rib-cage
-they know me so well

Write on cerulean skies,
breathe under turquoise waters
You pick at my scabs
kiss me deep in my rib-cage
-while I ache from bliss

I'm but a half-cooked body,
your warmth will surely rot me

falterclipped, courteous,
and now you sleep soundly
while i lie, still -

(i’m okay.)

wrapped in insecurity;
would you put
something shiny
on the fourth digit
of my left hand to
prove that I am yours?

(i never wanted that before.)

or would you sooner
push me six feet down
until dirt creeps inside,
clogs my throat, lungs,
and pores?

(i don’t want to die anymore.)

i could go for miles, alone.
could walk over sand, brick,
gravel or stone without stumbling
or needing to catch my breath -

(in, out.)

but I did not mind your hand when
you offered it, did not mind the
steadiness, the sureness, the you-ness
of your footsteps matching mine

intoxicateforget diplomacy.

I'll have no more
insidious wordplay,
mind games,
delusions—

poetry is a pretty tool
for those too meek
to put their sordid rhymes
into action, but

death is easy enough to come by
for anyone brave enough
to seek it out:
I'll leave it waiting
no longer.

rapid eye movementi am jealous
of my birdwinged half-sister.
later, birdwinged reapers--black,
looming quiet in every doorway. they
followed me from my hemmed-in waking terror
to the free reign of my subconscious.
far better suited to their purposes.
thunderstorms like supernovae out at sea, and
empty little boats tossed on emptier shores.
it rains, and the sea advances,
cresting the saguaros. someone is lost.
i don't know who. i don't know why i
care so much.
cliffs and skyscrapers. tightropes. sometimes
i am afraid of heights, and sometimes
afraid for those who are not.
the skinny girl
with the long dark hair is
always worth dying for.
sex. i am in turn
bemused, and indifferent, and bored, and
frustrated, more often than anything.
i like that i still remember how it felt to hug my dog,
right down to the cool wirecoat
and the warm fluff beneath,
and his immense
patience.
sometimes i wake up with misty
recollections and the overwhelming thought:
i wish it could be like this.
jungles with ancient

seductressthe ladders in my stockings
the ladders in your spine
I'm sick of all this talking
all your words are mine

you've got nothing to sell me
that I wouldn't steal
so won’t you try to tell me
just what it is you feel?

because
the flesh is weak
the flesh is strong
the mind is dead
when flesh is gone

the stitches in my dresses
the stitches in your side
my anatomy impresses
and there’s nothing you can hide

so many people sell their hearts
to purchase a cheap thrill
torn open, torn apart
this is not a drill

no
the flesh is weak
the flesh is strong
the mind is dead
when flesh is gone
mind over matter
over mind
it doesn't matter
what yo

AcquittalWon't you leave me? I will love you
more than if you stay, transfixed

to the point of reference, our bodies
melding a sad, soft sublime, the back

spine of a little universe blown out
like a crafter's hot glass, the growing

moment, the wonder, the expansion
before a chill.

Wonderland--C.whiskers a-quiver,
a waistcoat and pocket watch;
my, how time flies...

A weeping willow
stretches in the breeze; rabbit
screams break the silence.

the tardy's swan song,
unintended siren's song;
hark! the rabbit hole!

Cheshire cat preens,
whiskers bloody; on a lake,
swans snuggle sunset.

knaves in a panic,
shuffling in the garden;
repainting roses.

A soft lullaby
through thick smoke; caterpillar
on a tall toadstool.

waking up at tea time,
feeling out of sorts.

ataraxiai swear by these unworldly thoughts, a sin
that i bore witness to time murdering me within.

i swear by these strange, shifting bones
a neophyte of answer to the call of sorrow,
will seek god’s eyes in the offering stones
that built this life by transient morrow.

i swear by the lonesome abodes of clinical stars
to unsex un-navigate these tides of space
to free skysign intimacies as is ours,
and rid the cadence of this grace.

i swear by this internal, wicked flood
this beat asks for one: just and graved blood.

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Bitlet 09 - PoliticsWhen I speak of Carolina, cicadas sing in my memory
and I want to shout so you, little sister, might understand
the way a creature smaller than my hand can stand
with its brethren and shake my arrogance, how each
of their voices alone are just the sliver of a whisper -
but singing together they become thunder.

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Submitted: November 30, 2012
Submitted with: Sta.sh Writer

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On Receipt of Dead Loveby `LiliWrites

Literature / Poetry / Human Nature / Free Verse

Mature Content

A rewrite of an angsty piece written in 2007. I don't recall if I ever posted the original, but as a spot of pride in my own editing accomplishments, here is the original draft, in all its awesome horribleness!

The words are mad as rabid dogs
That cannot distinguish butterfly
From serpent and so kill it all:
Wrench wings from body
And tongue from stomach
With equal rigor.

Metaphors construct themselves
From brittle bones, rotting meat
Dance under half a moon,
Pretending they are glorious and alive
As reality never allowed:
A cacophony of joints and teeth, clinking.

Mist dampens the air
And fingers my hair. I am alone,
The solitary witness
To how hearts celebrate
When they break.

In the re-write I tried to refocus the ending to better incorporate the element of physically writing. I also focused on phonic devices and internal slight rhyme. Any critique or analysis is very appreciated. I'm especially uncertain about the middle stanza. It still feels clunky to me.

`Clair Mar 24, 2013

Ugh- this hits the depths of my heart with a thud. The words from this piece resound like echoes. I'm motionless wondering what just happened. I have no critique to offer- I just wanted to share how it sits within me.

`LiliWrites 1 day ago Hobbyist Writer

Thanks for leaving your thoughts.

I appreciate it very much!

*lombregrise Mar 2, 2013 Professional Writer

your beautiful art is in the empty north [link]

~FayEye Dec 23, 2012 Student

:hello:

I'm a participant of #FeedbackFrenzy contest 02

I will try to express the better i can with your poem. I know that the essence of a poem is the soul of the artist and therefore something quite noble regardless of the subject to be treated. I never wtote in english (poems or prose) but the complecity in each language is always present. I can not give you a good review in terms of grammar but I can offer you my testimony and all that affected me and how I felt ... I think as a writer that is also important so here goes.

You start with a huge deep emotional afirmation " The words are mad as rabid dogs" that is something so strong and true! We have a heart that unfortunately hurts through the simple act of "word" for when they are used to achieve a very precise purpose they are recognized by our heart that blows up I found very original how You used the fauna terms to describe something so profound.

In this part :

"deftly, deliberately deconstruct
the masquerade true beauty surpasses. "

--- you used two mode setting adverbs ( deftly, deliberately) I think that's how they are characterized ... I felt that they are together to increase the load significant in that moment is as follows there with the function to call the reader even further and if it's that congrats

because i could felt the emotion there.
And next you said:

"at once privileged and horrified,"

--- with two past tenses thaa llows there to be synchronization between what is happening and what has happened before as a action.
and finally you finish the poem saying that the pen is the instrument that allows transcribe when the heart sometimes is unable (like express ourselves in verbal ways and physical presence when it's needed). So the "pen" can be a very effective support in our worst and best moments i think

the art is exactly that. Can be a visual image as a drawing and that have immense spiritual forms and can also be written as in your case

I Just loved it

I hope that could reach you with my thoughts and that has not made a mistake

`LiliWrites Dec 29, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Thanks so much for your thorough and rather accurate analysis!

Your English was not a problem at all and I'm impressed at your tackling something so outside your native tongue.

Thanks again!

~FayEye Dec 29, 2012 Student

aww

you are very helcome ».«
i relly liked the way you expressed in the poem using such amazing exemples

I was really petrified when i read some parts

keep going

* and thank you for your kind words regarding my language

=AzizrianDaoXrak Dec 6, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

This is sooooooo gorgeous!

`LiliWrites Dec 7, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Thank you!

`FuzzyHoser Dec 3, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Oh, this is fantastic! I'm really impressed with the last stanza in particular.

`LiliWrites Dec 7, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Thanks!

I think I like it too.

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